


Stars Don't Shine in the Daylight

by BrightBlackTrees



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Oral Sex, POV Rey (Star Wars), POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey is literally obsessed with Ben's hands, Soft Ben Solo, The Force Ships It, These suckers are obsessed with each other, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 01:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightBlackTrees/pseuds/BrightBlackTrees
Summary: “It's me, Rey.” he said softly, voice croaking slightly from lack of use.Silhouettes of black trees swaying in a torrent of high wind, a roar of furious anguish, hazel irises flashing scarlet with hatred.“I know.” She sobbed, still clawing at her heart.“Look at me.” he said, hands resting palm up in his lap.She did. She looked right into his face, at the angular line of his jaw that she knew so well; at the imposing brow crowned in sheaves of raven black hair; the long nose; the pale pink swell of his soft lips. These were lips she had placed her fingers to, her own mouth, lips that had touched parts of her body no one else had even seen.It was Ben. It wasBen.---Rey has an old familiar nightmare about a monster in a mask.Ben Solo wishes with every fibre of his being that he could take the bad dreams away.





	Stars Don't Shine in the Daylight

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first ever piece of fanfiction. *nervous thumbs up*  
> I had a lot of fun writing this and hope y'all enjoy reading it (if anyone does!)  
> Peace x

Not for the first time, Rey woke up screaming.

Laying on her back in the dark, she stared up at the ceiling of a small shelter and heaved deep, panicked breaths, trying to work out where exactly she was. The dream had been so real, so paralysingly clear -

This was the interior of her hut on Ahch-To, she could work that much out. She tried to think coherently in the chaos of her fear but everything was jumbled and confused, tinted blood red like the shadows in her nightmare. The line between her dreams and reality were so blurred sometimes that she could barely work out the difference between the two.

_A mask of black and silver... a garnet crack in the alabaster earth... a snarl of angry noise, rushing towards her with malevolent intent -_

“Rey?” a voice whispered beside her in the shadows.

She cried out, thrusting herself away from the sound. She struck out with the Force in a frenzy, willing it to send her lightsaber soaring into her hand, like she had done every time she'd felt threatened over the long years of raging conflict during the Second Galactic Civil War, but her finger closed on empty air. Where was her saberstaff? Had her ability to channel the Force suddenly broken?

She rolled off the mattress, landing on the floor in a tangle of sheets, panting and frantic. Pushing herself up, she crawled on hands and knees away from the bed where a figure lay in pale repose. It spoke her name again.

She froze and started to speak, “Don't -” but the sound of her own voice brought something back to her: a muggy kind of clarity, some semblance of reason.

The man in her bed sat up, half-naked and shivering slightly beneath a splinter of moonlight. A mauve scar trailed down his face and pectoral like a lazy ribbon. His dark eyes held a white glint of concern.

“Ben.” she choked, reaching a hand up to clutch at her chest as though trying prevent her very body from falling apart. She tried to say more but found she was unable to, instead continuing to suck in deep breaths, grappling desperately with her remnant anxiety.

Ben Solo rose very carefully, as if concerned any sudden movement might startle her and send her flying away like a frightened bird. The pads of his bare feet met the floor as he slid from the bed, crouching almost to her level, which given their natural difference in height was difficult. His hooded eyes were filled with hesitancy as he came to a stop a few paces away, kneeling back on his heels.

“It's me, Rey.” he said softly, voice croaking slightly from lack of use.

_Silhouettes of black trees swaying in a torrent of high wind, a roar of furious anguish, hazel irises flashing scarlet with hatred._

“I know.” She sobbed, still clawing at her heart.

“Look at me.” he said, hands resting palm up in his lap.

She did. She looked right into his face, at the angular line of his jaw that she knew so well; at the imposing brow crowned in sheaves of raven black hair; the long nose; the pale pink swell of his soft lips. These were lips she had placed her fingers to, her own mouth, lips that had touched parts of her body no one else had even seen.

It was Ben. It was _Ben_.

She heaved another dry sob and crawled towards him, climbing into his lap as he wound large, strong arms around her frame. 

“I had a dream...” she murmured, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

“I know, I know.” he replied so quietly she might have imagined it. His torso felt like an iron wall and yet the flesh there was soft, warm and yielding. She placed a small kiss against his protruding collarbone, over the jagged line of the scar she had given him long ago.

“I'm sorry for this.” she whispered, hardly knowing what she was saying. “I was scared.”

“Rey,” he groaned, twisting a hand into his loose hair. “Don't.”

She bit her lip and swallowed down her errant thoughts, instead pressing another kiss into the hollow of his cheek, cradling the other side of his face in her clammy palm. His temple rolled to meet hers and for a moment they hovered there, just breathing, brows pressed together and lips an inch apart.

They had resided here on the Island on Ahch-To for almost a year now. As her senses returned to her, she realised why her lightsaber had never come to her when she summoned it: because she no longer possessed one and nor did Ben. They no longer needed them, they had agreed, and dismantled them before casting them into the dark ebbing sea. Their days were filled with little more than running their own quiet lives, without disrupting the practices of the native Lanai Caretakers too much. They had remembered Rey from her time with Luke when she had first returned and hadn't exactly been welcoming, which she could hardly blame them for - she had caused her fair share of destruction then, thanks in part to the man she had brought back with her the second time.

Over the last year, Rey had come to regard language as an almost useless occupation when it came to her relationship with Ben. She enjoyed the sound of his voice, certainly, and the rare bark of laughter that bubbled in his throat from time to time, and especially the small hum of contentment he sometimes made when they smiled at one another or shared a gentle caress or in that moment just before they fell to sleep with every part of their bodies touching. She liked, _loved_ his voice. But words, she had found, were often of very little use to them both. The nature of their bond, not just emotionally but the one they shared through the Force, meant that there was very little they could ever hide from one another. Every emotion, every rogue thought, every whisper of feeling if felt by one was also felt by the other. She had also discovered that touch drastically amplified this sense of telepathy they shared. They could communicate joy, serenity, affection, all by simply placing a hand on the other's body, just as they could equally convey distress, fear, rage. The latter emotions were, thankfully, not so commonplace as they had once been, in the time following the end of the war. Together, they had comforted one another, healing painful wounds, providing antidotes to deep-set poisons planted long years ago. Each touch, each kiss they shared was a muted conversation, an exchange only two people as intrinsically linked as they were could comprehend. 

Rey grazed the tip of her nose across his cheek and crooked her fingers into the thick, soft hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently in an affectionate gesture. He sighed against her and his breath tickled her chin like a warm breeze.

“It was so clear.” she said quietly, skimming her mouth across his top lip.

“Do you want to show me?” he asked.

She met his gaze and knew that he meant it, would acquiesce if she wanted to show him what she had seen, but she could also feel his trepidation radiating in a low hum through their bond. She kissed his brow. They each had their fair share of nightmares; there was no point adding fuel to a dying fire. She shook her head and smiled down at him as best she could.

A shade of his thoughts grazed her mind like the prickle of a dry leaf.

' _You were afraid of me_.'

She didn't reply but knew her silence would be weighted with meaning. His head hung low and she felt a smoky darkness within him leaking into the bond. Inwardly, she sighed.

' _Not your fault_.' she brushed back at his mind but his feelings were becoming quickly tangled in shadow. “Ben,” she whispered aloud. 

' _It was me, wasn't it?_ ' he prodded. ' _I was your nightmare_.'

How could she admit to that? She couldn't, it would hurt him too much and after he'd come so far, changed so much, had even started to try to forgive himself... But, of course, her silence once again spoke volumes. His jaw tensed beneath her palm and an old, dull anger burned in his eyes.

' _No,_ ' she caressed. ' _Not you_.'

His dark gaze met her own and he placed his fingers over the scar on her shoulder, the one shaped like two hands reaching towards each other. His lower lip gave the smallest tremble. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

“He is me. Kylo Ren will always be a part of me.”

She shook her head gently and scratched the hair at the base of his scalp in the way she knew he liked. He groaned softly, almost mournfully, and she felt his tangled pleasure and despair bubbling confusedly through their bridged feelings.

“If he is a part of you, then he can't frighten me.” she said.

“Rey -”

“There is nothing about you that I could ever fear again.”

His lip curled. “You don't think the Darkness still lives in me? You think I can outrun it? I can't – not all the time. Sometimes it's still so much stronger than I am -”

“And sometimes the Light is. I don't care that there's Dark in your past _or_ in your present. I used to be afraid, before I understood more about the Force, before it told me to find you. Now I know that the Dark is just as important as the Light: it's the balance, Ben. And all of the Dark parts in me are balanced by the Light parts in you.”

“This is no Dark in you.” he sighed, gazing at her with stricken eyes.

“You know that isn't true.” she responded simply.

He was silent then but his thoughts sang through the bond almost like a lament : ' _You're so good._ '

She wanted to tell him that he was too but she knew he wouldn't believe it in the same way she did. Instead, she thought softly, ' _Hold me._ ' He did, instantly tightening his arms around her waist and pinning her to his chest. She wrapped her own arms around his head and neck, cradling him to her breast. Through their bridged minds, she heard the echo of her own heart beating against his ear and kissed the top of his head, nuzzling in the nest of ruffled black hair there. ' _You're all I need._ ' she pushed into his thoughts. ' _You're all I need._ '

She heard his breath catch and felt second-handedly the painful skip beneath his ribs. She knew he could no longer articulate himself with speech, couldn't even think coherently; he could simply feel and she could too.

He sought her mouth with fervent need, clutching her body to his as he kissed and inhaled and tasted her with his warm, full lips. Her stomach flipped in a place low down and she clenched her teeth, accidentally nipping his bottom lip. He grunted deep in his throat and reached a hand up to cradle the back of her head, moving the other to splay his fingers across the length of her spine. His hands, those large, powerful hands which she had known in violence, in battery, in destruction, she had also known to be delicate, to be improbably gentle, to trace the ridges of her knuckles and ribs and hipbones; they were a miracle, the hands of Ben Solo.

Pushing her fingers through his hair, she removed her lips from his and blazed a trail of kisses up to his cheeks, across his nose, eyebrows and temple. His skin was hot as if a fire crackled beneath its surface, and it smelt so familiar and right and – ' _So good._ '

In an instant, she was on her back, half lying on the blanket she had accidentally tugged out of bed with her. Ben was on top of her, seemingly glued to her by the mouth as he continued to plant little wet devotions across her fevered flesh. She could feel his excitement, his primal instinct to devour, to _have_ , but she could also sense restraint, a desire to drink her in like cool water from a fresh spring; he wanted to appreciate her, to prove things to her, to _glorify her_. His face moved lower down her body, pushing the hem of her thin sleep tunic up above her belly button and inhaling deeply there for a second. His long fingers hooked into the fabric of her underwear and she brought her hands up from his bare shoulders to his hair, tugging slightly. He sent her a vague question mark through the bond, still enamoured with the scent and taste of her navel. Her breath caught in her throat and he must have heard it because he looked up suddenly to meet her eyes.

Why had she felt the need to grab his attention? No words sprung to her mouth and she couldn't quite work out what the feeling rolling in the pit of her stomach was, but all the same she had wanted to look at him, to -

Maybe that was just it?

She had just needed to see him for a second.

His gaze burned like a flame, bypassing every external barrier, reaching a place deep within her. She stared back and felt as if she could see into him too, something tangible, awake and beating. She traced the crest of his cheekbones with her fingertips and for a small, endless moment, they simply breathed one another in.

He lowered his eyes and slowly pulled on the material hiding her dark curls. Rey continued to watch, chest rising and falling steadily with rhythmic inhalations, as he hovered ponderously over her mound, casting aside her undergarments once they were free of her ankles without care. He dipped his head to place a tentative kiss against her folds. She could half-smell her own musk in his nostrils but soon forgot about that as his tongue slipped out to lick a slow path up from her entrance to her clitoris. Her hips bucked spasmodically but his strong hands held her in place. He repeated the same action again, leaving a wet, cool trail across her centre.

She heard vaguely from his head, ' _You taste -_ ' but nothing more followed.

He draped his left arm across her hips, pinning her down gently, an elbow on one side of her stomach and his palm on the other. With his right hand, he slid his thumb into the warmest, wettest part of her, making her buck yet again. As she watched, he lifted the tip of his thumb to taste the essence there, _her_ essence. Her heart pounded in her chest and her cunt throbbed with heat. Suddenly, wildly, she wanted him to plunge into her, to fill each empty space of her missing pieces with his yearning component parts. He felt it through the bond, her desire, he need, and flicked his gaze up to meet hers. Her breath caught once again in her throat and she ached for him to move. He flashed her a small but worshipful smile and pushed a finger inside her.

Her eyes rolled back in her head for a moment. She felt his penis twitch through the bond as he saw this, hunger boiling in his abdomen at the sight of her pleasure, but she knew his mind, heard his vows of restraint. ' _She comes first._ ' he thought to himself. Rey didn't mind being thought about in the third person or his obstinate determination to please her.

She craned her neck again to watch him in his ministrations and saw him press a soft kiss to her centre that sent little shivers up her spine. He began to move his finger inside her, sliding in further then pulling lazily back out, crooking it to create further tension. She felt as if she were being wound up like a spring, her vagina a thread coiling leisurely around his finger. He planted another kiss upon her, more localized this time as Ben had used his free hand to spread her folds open; wet lips encapsulated the swollen nub of her clit and she moaned, eyelids falling closed for a split second as she rode the feeling out.

“Lie back, darling.” she heard him murmur, breath ghosting across her belly. She sent him a cursory glance before sinking into the sensation of his hands and mouth.

It was hard not to feel overwhelmed by it all; she felt surrounded by him. The feeling of his tongue rolling small circles across her nub was intoxicating, his finger moving deep within her made her think of ocean waves for some reason, like the ones lapping and crashing at the cliffs of the island. She felt frantic yet peaceful, joyful and tormented all at the same time. His presence, his closeness, the hum of his thoughts, the wet snuffling sound of his tongue lapping at her, it made her feel everything a hundred times more intensely. Then he slid in another finger to accompany the first and she drew a sharp, staggering intake of breath, mouth open as though in song. At the sound she made, she knew another a rush of blood to Ben's erection through the Force and felt his thrusting fingers and lavishing mouth increase the intensity of their movement, though they were by no means any less concerted.

She was beginning to feel a tingling in her thighs and groaned again as a wave of euphoria washed through her. She could see systems, hundreds and hundreds of shining suns on the back of her eyelids and at the centre of her bright universe was Ben, worshipful and intent between her legs, connected to her in every feasible way. She choked on stardust that seemed to be clogged in her throat and breathed his name like a prayer.

She felt his thoughts answer her. ' _Come for me, Rey._ '

A pressure was building in her belly, the spring that he had been winding ever tighter was so ready to burst open; she felt the distant brush of his mind as his eyes passed over her writhing form and heard him again: ' _All I ever wanted._ '

She broke in half at the implosion inside of her, mouth open, legs shaking, fingers fluttering in his soft hair. She could almost hear the waves crashing in her ears as she shook and chanted his name over and over, “Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben...” Her skin tightened, her blood fizzled with ecstasy and in amongst it all, she felt his free hand flatten possessively over the contracting muscles of her stomach so that the pressure intensified even further. Inexplicably, the image of his face flashed in her mind's eye, pale and angular, framed in locks of soft, ebony hair and smiling in the small, adoring way he often did when he looked at her.

She floated down like ash to the ground, which she thought was apt because she had felt like a popping fire seconds before. Her fingers wound into the strands of hair at his crown but she didn't open her eyes, simply living in the unfurling remnants of her joy for as long as it lasted. Eventually, she looked down at him laying between her thighs with an expression of utter contentment. He was beaming, that same beautiful smile she had pictured at the height of her orgasm – it was a look that could hold up galaxies, string together constellations. She stroked down his temple to cup the edge of his jaw and he dusted the tip of his nose across her palm.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of her and for a moment, she felt desperately empty. He froze with just his fingertips left inside. Tentatively, he flexed them slightly and with a little rush of blood to her head, she reach down to still his wrist. His eyes locked on hers as she moved to sit up, leaning down to his face. He didn't pull away or come up to meet her, just remained propped on his elbow, half-resting against her thigh. His lips were wet and soft from her folds and not so long ago she might have felt embarrassed about that but not now. They tasted coppery and slightly sweet and were so pliant beneath her own. She shuffled on to her knees and he rose to imitate her. She could now see his erection beneath his loose cotton trousers. She reached out for it with sure fingers but he caught her wrist, thinking, ' _You don't have to._ '

She met his gaze with determination and eased her arm free of his grasp. Sliding the thin material past his crotch, she laid eyes on the strong curvature of his penis, pink and bobbing as it stood to attention. She felt a small sense of satisfaction that she could do this to him and without hesitation leaned down to pressed her lips to the underside of the head, making sure to wrap her fingers around the base for when he inevitably twitched at the contact with her mouth.

In a leisurely fashion, as if they had all the time in the world, _because_ they had all the time in the world, she flicked her tongue across the slit at the top in small wet strokes, eliciting a few droplets of pre-cum which pooled at his tip. her tongue darted out to lap it up, tasting saltiness and musk. She wasn't overly fond of the flavour but she could manage, could even learn to appreciate it in small amounts. She slid her moistened lips over the head and savoured the tang of his skin, the heat, the softness, the solid. Letting more wetness coat the inside of her mouth, she lowered on to him further, curling her lips in a tight little 'oh'. She came back up steadily then returned back down, a little lower the next time and the next, taking more and more of him between her lips. Her saliva had glazed his penis is warm wetness, lubricating the fine skin so it was easy to slide up and down his length. When she instinctively lifted her fingers to tickle the puckered flesh of his scrotum, he gasped and gripped her shoulders. 

“Rey,” she heard him breathe and responded by taking him deeper, almost to the back of her throat. He convulsed and his fingers dug into her shoulders, tugging urgently. She came up, replacing her mouth with firm-gripped fingers rolling steadily along his shaft. The look in his eyes told her that he was already close. She leaned in to kiss him and he gripped her neck with one hand, searching for her opening with the fingers of his other. She raised herself up to hover over his throbbing penis, breath catching when she felt his domed tip at her entrance. For a moment, they remained poised, on the cusp of total unity. She touched her damp forehead to his and once again, they breathed together for a moment before she sank onto him.

The few times they had done this properly, diligently, with an amassed degree of skill and patience, she had found herself wondering why the old Jedi Order had forbidden couplings. After all, if sex was the physical act of love, as people said, then it would have certainly been a forbidden practice. In her own experience, however, Rey had never known anything that felt more like balance than when Ben was buried to the hilt inside her, held safely and steadfastly between her walls, deep, immovable, rooted in her body like he was a very part of it. She had never, ever come so close to physical or mental transcendence than she had when she was with him, as though he were unwittingly filling every gaping pit of loneliness or despair within her. She felt transported, fragile yet powerful, vulnerable but unafraid.

He released a shuddering breath beneath her and she sank further on to his length, feeling the core-deep stretch, all vacant space dissipating as he seated himself rightfully in her body.

There was nothing like this, she thought to herself. There would never be _anything_ like this.

His hips rolled to meet her, helping them achieve the most intimate of positions. Slow at first, they edged away then eased back together, picking up speed as their bodies became accustomed to one another until they were engaged in a steady rhythm. Tension built in her groin; through the bond, she could feel it swelling his own belly too. They were breathless, hearts pounding in time, so perfect, so correct, so _belonging_ -

“Ben...” she gasped, suddenly seized by the urge to pour the contents of her heart out to him. As his gaze met hers, however, she saw dewy wetness outlining his shining eyes, eyes that held an entire glittering cosmos and she knew that she didn't have to say a single word, because he felt it too.

She tumbled over the precipice of a golden void, tingling with sheer, unadulterated joy, pure love flowering in every one of her blue veins pulsing with crimson blood. Her body shook with the convulsions it elicited and soon after she felt the massive arms encircling her tighten as he joined her in their shared ecstasy.

As they shivered to a standstill, clutching ardently to one another, Rey heard the sound of birds outside the hut, probably perched on the rock face of the cliffs surrounding them, singing their dawn song. She strained her ears to catch it, resting her head on Ben's broad, sweaty shoulder, feeling the swell and decline of his chest.

After a few quiet moments, he ran his hands down her rib cage to rest delicately on her backside. She straightened to look at him. His face was shining, expression sated and peaceful. She plucked his right hand into her own and pressed it to the bow of her lips, thanking the dwindling morning stars for the wonder of those enduring, remarkable, forgiven hands.

Once again, the urge to speak captured her but one look in his eyes stilled the impulse. Instead, she rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes, luxuriating in the inexplicable sense of understanding that flowed between them. Outside, the sky was still dark but a shaft of light would soon peak on the horizon, turning night into day; there was time for both, always had been, always would be.

It was the balance of things.


End file.
